


Wheel of Fortune

by Regina (War_Queen)



Series: Renegades [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Justice (Dragon Age) Positive, M/M, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Queen/pseuds/Regina
Summary: If you told Garrett Hawke that love at first sight was a thing he wouldn’t believe you.
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke
Series: Renegades [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960474
Kudos: 11





	Wheel of Fortune

_"Even if the sacrifices which are made to duty and virtue are painful to make, they are well repaid by the sweet recollections which they leave at the bottom of the heart."_

_Jean-Jacques Rousseau,_

Varric Tethras is a good storyteller. He knows how to grab an audience. He knows how to tell a story that leaves people with bated breaths and anticipating more.

Varric Tethras is a great liar. He spins his words like gold around the eyes of those around him. Glittering and shining, drawing the m away from the truth without effort.

Varric Tethras is a selfless friend. He gives so much of who he is to his friend’s benefit.  With all his words, he doesn’t talk about it but he cares so much for his friends it is practically impossible not to see it.

He cares for his friends so much so that he would spin tales and tell lies to protect them at the cost of his own life. Not the first time he’s done it. Probably wouldn’t be the last.

See things are a bit different from the way he tells them. He’s a good liar because he knows when to tell the truth and when to twist it to a lie, how to make it so flawless , so effortless , that no one would doubt it.

Garrett Hawke did come to Kirkwall a desperate refugee with a mother and a brother . A debt to pay and a family name to reclaim but those are the big things. The things that can’t be distorted with lies because it’s something that almost everyone in Kirkwall knows. The little things though? That’s where he spins words like gold. Dazzling and distracting and very very misleading.

Garrett groaned, closing his e yes and leaning back on the hard wood behind him. There was no way mother didn’t blame him for Bethany’s death. She, after all, isn’t the only daughter of hers that he had killed.

They were packed like sardines in the hull, it was suffocating and there was never a silent moment, always someone crying , old, young, or a child.

His mother was in her corner, curled up upon herself, still crying over Bethany. Carver too was unlike himself. He kept his sword close to his body and Bethany's staff Closer, his eyes were red rimmed.

Garrett hadn't seen him cry, but he knew that he did. Bethany was the best of them all, and while they all felt her loss deeply, she was Carver’s twin so it must have felt like he lost a part of himself with her.

Knocking his head back, Garrett clinched his eyes shut against the pang of pain.

It was his fault, if he was faster, if he did what he was supposed to, if he had protected her, she wouldn't be dead now.

The noise from around him overlapped and he wished that The Witch of The Wild had taught him how to become a dragon like he asked, if only to avoid the misery this place caused. He felt sorry for Maze because the place must reek of despair. 

He bundled up the blanket he had and stood up, making his way through the masses to drape it silently over his mother, the nights were cold and he was a mage . He and Maze could manage.

It hasn’t been long when the ship docked at the harbor. The people flowing out of it like the hordes of darkspawn they were running from. 

There was nothing for them here, Lothering was the place they finally settled in and it was an ocean away, decrepit and tainted. They were running away again, but instead of s ix they were four. And in their company, a fifth, an outsider. 

Even their uncle, who was supposed to be their only hope, turned out to be useless and they were forced to indenture themselves to a mercenary band for a whole year to get passage to the city. 

Hawk sighed, pressing his knuckles to his eyes sharply to push away the morbid thoughts settling on his mind, knowing that kindness and justice had no place in this city. Even a fter he spared this man’s life, he would take many more. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that his family is safe.

  


Garrett rolled his eyes, pulling his blade from the carta’s stomach, the wound conspicuously not bleeding. “I get it, no need to rub it in my face.” 

“There’s always a need to rub things in your face brother.” Carver mocked with a smirk, holstering his giant sword and raising an eyebrow at Garrett. 

Varric snorted sharply, “you really don’t listen to yourself when you talk, do you Junior.” 

Retching, Garrett shuddered in disgust, “ew Varric, he’s my little brother.” 

“I’m saying it as I see it.” Varric shrugged 

They walked for a bit, and stopped at the small hanging sign with “Lirene's Fereldan Imports” carved into it. 

“Charming.” Hawke murmured, pushing the door and entering the building with Varric, his Brother, and his Mabari. 

The place was… something. Hawke watched, overwhelmed, blinking several times to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming of their first day at Kirkwall. 

The voices overlapped but the Ferelden accent was prominent. People crowded and walked into one another to get to the woman standing behind the counter. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Hawke coughed awkwardly, watching with wide eyes as the people huddled around. There were children here, also a pregnant woman who frankly looked like she’s about to pop at any moment now!? 

“Yup.” Varric followed him as they headed towards the counter, the people around them making way when they see the weapons strapped to their backs. 

Garrett Hawke didn’t want much in this life. He grew up as the eldest sibling. The eldest son. Carrying his father’s name and his fathers blood. When the twins were born and he first held Bethany in his arms , his mother smiling softly at him and his father holding carver and cleaning him from afterbirth, he vowed that he would protect them. He turned to his father, eyes sharp and shoulders set and he promised to look after them. Malcom Hawke had smiled at his son and proudly handed Carver to him, “You make us proud Garrett.” He had said. 

Ever since then, nothing had ever concerned him more than his family. That his parents were happy, his siblings safe. When Bethany showed her magic, it became even more important that he looks out for her. That he fills their house with laughter and exasperated smiles. Better that than worry heavy in the air. Three apostates were bound to draw templars attention. 

When they settled in Lothering, the twins were old enough that they wanted to be independent. So Garrett turned his attention to his father and mother. Helping around with the farm, helping his father with magic. Watching as his hands glowed with healing magic and put aches to rest. 

One day Garrett went into their house looking for the weighted staff blade his father made for Bethany, only to find Carver sulking in a corner. His sword clutched in his hand tightly and his lower lip suspiciously wobbly. 

He had dragged his brother with him and ever since then it was the three of them. Training together. Making sure that Carver wasn’t left out. As if he himself was a mage, with how they would layer him up with augmenting spells. 

Then his father died and suddenly he had to take care of his mother, watch out for his sister and help around their farm. He never complained because he didn’t see any cause for complaints. Carver did though. He became distant. Trying so very hard to prove himself. To fill the place Malcom left. 

It was like that until one day they woke up and he wasn’t home. They’d all known where he’d headed, and Garrett had to go drag his baby brother back home thus incidentally saving his life.

Then they were running, and running and then Bethany died and they had to run more. Only now, the wight of his failure wighted him down.

So no. Garrett didn’t, and doesn’t want anything other than to keep his family, what’s left of it, safe and happy.

Until he opened the lantern lit door under Kirkwall and saw a mage standing over a sickly child, the glow of healing magic at his fingertips and a concentrated expression on his face.

Until he walked to the man who tugged at his heart like a well aimed spear, and to be faced with protective wrath and fury. Staff at ready and arm outstretched. Voice echoing slightly, it made Garrett doubt his ears.

Blinking several times to process what he was seeing along with what he was feeling, “I’m just here to talk,” he started, eyes studying the warden in front of him.

Varric stepped in, filling the silence he left when he couldn’t conjure any words to explain himself. It was as if he was hit with a mind blast, his thoughts scattered and not making any sense. The only thing he could hear was the Warden’s voice,

“I’m not going. They made me get rid of my cat.” The warden’s features pulled into a charming pout “Poor ser pounce a lot, he hated the deep roads.”

“You named your warden cat ser pounce a lot?”

“He was a gift. A noble beast.”

“That’s…” he stared for a moment, imagining the man in front of him playing with a cat, a wide smile on his face, “oddly sweet.” He absently registered Carver groaning behind him, not hurt. Just exasperated.

The man smiled, “he almost got ripped in half by a genlock once. He swatted the bugger on the nose,”He sounded proud. “drew blood too.” then angry, “the blighted wardens said he _‘made me too soft.’_ I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine.”

Garrett nodded, watching how the little light the sun permitted in this place reflected on his hair. He’d never seen anything that beautiful before. “I thought that once you join the wardens you can’t go back.”

“That’s only partly true.” He shrugged. “The ‘hopelessly tainted by darkspawn’ and the ‘plagued by nightmares about the archdemon’ parts don’t go away. But it turns out if you hide well you don’t have to wear the uniform or go to the parties.”

The way he talked, a smug sort of smile on his face, voice melodic and eyes entrapping. Hawke wondered how he was still focused enough to understand the words being said to him, “I’m Hawke,” he blurted out, then blinked a couple of times to remind himself that he wasn’t still working as a mercenary, “Garrett Hawke. I’m part of a deep roads expedition, any information you have could save people’s lives.” He tilted his head placating and then wondered why he did that, when the warden was taller than him anyways.

The warden looked really put out by the mere notion, rejecting the idea completely, “Although,” he trailed off. Arms crossing, and shifting his weight from one leg to the other, “a favor for a favor. Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I help you.”

“Yeah. Sounds… I’ll do whatever you need.” Why is it that he feels like he’s never talked to anyone before! Trailing off and spacing out like a child who just learned how to talk.

“Really? You won’t ask about my terms? I might be asking for the knight commander’s head on a spike.” The warden said, amused and in half jest.

“Wow. A man after my own heart.” He blurted out, Carver made sure to kick him in reprimand.

The warden looked surprised, staring with a raised eyebrow and a reluctant smile “I have a warden’s map of the deep roads in this area, but it comes with a price.”

Hawke watched avidly as the man turned, leaving his place under the stray rays of the sun and walking further into the dim darkness of the clinic, away from prying ears.

“I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend. A mage. A prisoner in the wretched gallows.” He looked down at his hands for a moment and tightened them slightly, “the templars learned of my plan to free him. Help me bring him safely past them and you shall have your maps.”

“Of course,” Hawke frowned, “I will help any mage in those circumstances, map or not.”

The warden looked surprised, Carver groaned behind him, grumbling under his breath “I swear, my idiot brother.” Rolling his eyes he turned away from them, attention trained on the entrance, “ this better work out, we’re risking a lot by angering the templars.”

Seemingly recovered from his shock the warden asked, “you’re not going to ask for details? I could be freeing a blood mage for all that you know.”

“Uhh.” Hawke tried to think of an appropriate response to that, and wasn’t that a noble thing. He never cared to appear appropriate, and from Varric’s chuckle and Carver’s bored groan, he wasn’t they only one to notice.

Don’t say ‘I don’t really mind blood magic’ he told himself. “Yeah. I think I could do with some, uh… more details.”


End file.
